You Only Live Twice: On Shaky Ground
by karrenia
Summary: A what if look at the back history of Julio Esteban Ricther before he joined any of the various xteams. revamped
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** Rictor, Shatterstar, Cameron Hodge, Cable, X-Force and all related characters, events are the property of Marvel Comics and are used for entertainment purposes only. You know the drill. Intended to be a "What If" kind of story. 

****

"You Only Live Twice: On Shaky Ground" by Karen Galarneault   
EMAIL: karrenia_rune@yahoo.com 

__

Guadalajara, Mexico, two years ago 

The eleven year old boy named Julio Esteban Richter unlatched his seat belt and jumped out of the passenger seat of his cousin Omar's Dodge pickup. Omar, several years older had just received his driver's license. Julio had begged and promised to do his cousin's chores for two weeks if he'd take him joy riding along the back streets of Guadalajara. 

Omar finally gave in, swearing he'd hold him to the promise. Julio belatedly realized that Omar was just the type to try and weasel himself out of an extension on the promise. 

They'd shot down to the outskirts of town, weaving in and out of traffic. The pickup speed along at an exhilarating paces, often threatening to spin out of control as it hit every rut and bump in the road. With the wind in his face, his shoulder length brown hair whipping over his eyes, and vision blurred, Julio loved every moment of it. 

Omar called the pickup 'a gainer', telling him how he'd acquired it in Mexico City during one of his weekend trips with his buddies. Julio didn't care, just as long as he could enjoy going this fast without having to worry about the policia.   


Omar headed towards a rocky outcropping called "Jewels of the Sky", he insisted it was a spectacular view. Pulling up to a guard railing, Omar slid into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. They both got out. 

It was every bit as advertised. He saw eagles whirling in loops above the cloud break, and the bluest sky he'd remembered seeing in a long time.   
"_It's exactly the kind you see in mushy, romantic movies or in dramatic flicks_ _when they wanted to emphasis landscape,"_ he thought. 

Standing atop the outcropping, the view stretched away to the horizon.   
Julio watched the ebb and flow of city life. People, cars, and every day life, from this altitude it looked like a model city being played out just for him. 

"You can see everything from up here!" Julio exclaimed, running over to lean over the guard railing. He tried to trace imaginary dragons and other shapes in the clouds. 

"Told you so," Omar replied, yanking on Julio's leather jacket sleeve. Don't fall over. Your mother would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you." 

"Yeah right," Julio replied, placing both hands on the railing, taking deep breaths of the pure air, which jolted him out of his more fanciful thoughts?   
"I think I can see my house from here," Julio said, ignoring Omar' death grip on his sleeve. 

"Come away from there, the view won't change the closer you are to it." 

"Thanks for bringing me up here," Julio said. 

"De nada. I come up here every once in a while to 'get away from it all. It's sort of a special place. I thought you were ready to come here," Omar said. 

Julio didn't quite know how to respond to this, so he just nodded and mumbled his thanks. Omar, not used to expressing emotion took this as acknowledgement of his gesture. 

"Take all the time you want, soak up the view. We'll head back home whenever you're ready," Omar said as he went back to the pickup for a cooler where he'd stashed a six pack of beer, and then came back to stand next to Julio in comfortable silence. 

"Sure, Omar," Julio said. He could understand how this would be a perfect spot to get away from it all. It was incredible. He lost track of how long they'd spent just hanging out up there, not really doing anything. However, he was eager to get back to his room,   
because he'd left a copy of Robinson Curouso unfinished. He'd left it splayed open on his bed,   
like some ungainly butterfly. 

It was one of his favorite books. He especially liked the way the title character yearned for ocean adventures on board a ship, exotic ports, and the occasional pirate raid thwarted. Even being shipwrecked on a deserted island seemed exciting, when he read about it. His favorite role was the character, Friday, whom Robinson saved, taught English, and converted._ "Probably the best part of the book_," he thought. 

He'd always imagined transposing the heroes he'd read about in his books, for his father, imagining him better then he was.   
He couldn't help wishing that he'd pursued some other line of business. 

Julio Richter's mind drifted back to a time when he'd first learned about that business. 

* * *

__

Costa Rica, early 80's 

The Elder Richter, balding and unkempt, peered out through leaded and barred windows. The younger Richter, wearing a hand- made poncho, sewn with care and love by his mother, perched on a stool. He'd come down to Costa Rica thrilled to be old enough to accompany his   
father on a business trip. 

For the last five hours he'd watched his father pace back and worth wearing an almost noticeable groove in the wooden floor of the building.   
His father's client had told them this was the "Waiting Room." He'd also said Jimmy Alegria Hernandez would be with them momentarily." 

"Is this what you were expecting them to do to us, poppa, when we came down to Costa Rica?" Julio asked. 

"No, hijo. This isn't what I was expecting. And Louis Alejandro Richter is not to be treated in such a disrespectful manner! Who do these people think they are dealing with anyway? Bunch of lackeys, is all. You'll see, Julio, when these idiots report back to their boss,   
and realize what a mistake they have made, they will let us out and smother us with apologies and wine. You'll see what kind of weight your father's name carries all over Latin America!" 

A door opening on creaking, unoiled hinges, let in a half dozen armed men in jeans and denim shirts. All were armed, except for their apparent leader, a medium built man wearing an expensive Italian suit. 

"About time," Louis said. 

"Come with us. Senor Hernandez will see you now," one goon said, pointing towards   
the only available exit, and allowed them to walk out ahead, the business end of the   
gun pointed towards the small of their backs. 

__

Outside 

"Senor Richter, my sincerest apologies for having detained you and your young son for so long. It was an oversight of a most accidental nature. But you did bring the merchandise with you?" Hernandez oozed. 

"I am a professional merchant, Senor Hernandez. Your goods are in the crate." 

"I expected no less of you, Louis," Hernandez soothed. 

Julio hanging back at the edge of the ring of men, eased his way between them to take a closer look at the contents of the crate. Those standing around dickering over the agreed upon price of the merchandise ignored him.   


He bent down on one knee to get a closer look. 

Hernandez gave a cursory glance at the nine year old boy. 

"Mira! Look how your boy is so curious about what you deliver to me, Louis! Nice heft. Ammunition, too? Si? I am very pleased, Louis. Take a good look, Nino. See any light at the end of this tunnel? Hope so," he gave a throaty laugh, "Since you're staring down the barrel of your own future." 

* * *

__

Gudalajara, Mexico, two years ago 

The sound of gunfire outside the kitchen window shook Julio himself out of the unsettling memory.

It also brought his cousins, both immediate and twice removed running to the window. Lifting the lace curtains that his mother had purchased a week ago from a mail order catalogue all the way from Ireland. Julio watched as about an even dozen of his family members, tossing back cans of beer, fingering the safeties on their rifles. 

A sudden blast from an invisible source knocked them flat on their faces. 

Julio watched his father pull on his best dress shirt and run out to the front courtyard.   
A man emerged from the shadows, well over six feet, his white hair slicked back, a long trench coat opened to reveal a muscular figure, a star shaped scar criss-crossed his left eye. 

"Es un tiburon." Julio whispered to his cousin, Omar." 

"A shark?" Omar whispered back in confusion. 

A shark. Omar had taken him to see the movie "Jaws" a week earlier, so that was the most frightening thing he could think of; just like the great white shark plowing through the water, right before sinking its rows of razor-sharp teeth into the hull of the boat.   


The animal laughed as bullets bounced off him, it was as terrifying a sight as the boy had ever seen 

All the Richter men were on the front yard, shooting away. Maybe they were   
too stupid to be as frightened as he was. If there was one thing he'd learned as he   
got older, there was as little shortage of stupidity in the family as there were guns. 

"We should be out there, Jul, shootin' away!" Omar shouted. 

"I don't know, Omar, it looks like bullets ant gonna settle this one," Julio replied. 

"You're a coward," Omar remarked. 

It stung, but Julio knew instinctively that his first gut reaction had been right about this one. As he got to know his cousin Omar better, it seemed he didn't have the sense God gave a mule. Tears in his eyes, he turned his attention back to the fight outside, which was turning out to be more of a waste of ammunition. The futility of it all wrenched at his heart. "I can't believe this is happening," Julio muttered. 

Meanwhile, 'the shark' moved forward, no longer laughing, just burning with anger.   


His body lit up like a Roman candle like a spectral glow of red, orange, and white. framing his entire frame in a light that hurt Julio's eyes just to look at him. 

"NO! Senor Stryfe!" his father shouted. 

Julio watched his father crumple to the crowed, the gun held loosely in his slackening grip. 

"Louis Alejandro Richter, you have lied to me!" Stryfe growled. 

"I had no choice- La Policia were poking around, I had to move the merchandise quickly....   
You were two weeks late and I could not reach you, no matter how I ride. I sold the materials to HYDRA at a loss just to be rid of them...." 

"You have reneged on our agreement, Louis. I do not wish to see harm befall your entire family for your personal indiscretions, but someone must pay." 

"Stay back.." Louis shouted, holding his gun in shaking hands. 

"And that someone's YOU!" Stryfe announced, a sphere of lighting appearing in his hands, aimed directly for his father. The lightning hit, instantly stopping his heart, He fell down dead, but not before he'd managed to squeeze off a shot. 

Julio watched as the bullet bounced off the Shark, his father screamed. Out of the window, torn between fleeing and staying, Julio heard his father fall, heard him scream a clean hole through his forehead, and his murderer walked away as if nothing had happened. 

Julio stared at his father, a man he respected, a man he loved. He was frozen in shock, at loss for words for the first time in his life.   
He knew what his father did for a living wasn't pleasant. He'd had ambivalent feelings about it but he couldn't stand to watch his father die, murdered at the hands of some homicidal madman in the guise of a defrauded buyer. 

__

The funeral 

The Richter family, led by Se~nora Juana, shrouded in black, bundled up in several cars headed to the San Sebastian Cemetery. The arrangements for Louis Alejandro's cremation had been taken care of, all that remained was the funeral, his ashes sprinkled over the family plot. It turned out to be quite a procession. 

Padre Ramirez greeted them at the front gates. "Beinviendos." 

Senora Richter quickly formed up everybody, handing out lit candles and baskets filled with food and wine. They'd share a meal during the candlelit   
vigil. Since Julio and his cousin, Candia were underage they wouldn't be allowed any wine. 

The family took their place in the circle of mourners, which included both friends and family members. 

The priest took the baskets from his mother, and placed them on the ground, arranging the family in a loose semicircle. Padre Ramirez than accepted the urn. He sprinkled the ashes on the ground, "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, we return   
to the Lord."_ Benedictus que veni en Nomi de Domi, _Blessed is He Who Comes in the Name of the Lord," then the priest led the recital of several songs and other group participation prayers: Psalm 121   


""I lift up my eyes toward the mountains; whence shall help come to me?   
My help is from the Lord, who made heaven and earth./ The Lord is your guardian; the   
Lord is your shade. The Lord will guard you from all evil; he will guard your life.   
The Lord will guard your coming and your going, both now and forever.""   
Padre Ramirez sang. 

Several hours into the vigil, which would last until sunrise, Julio, kneeling with the others, struggled to keep his eyes open. Sleep threatened to overtake him, that, and it was nearly impossible to get a comfortable position. Candia sidled up next to him, tickling his left side. "Stop that!" he whispered. 

"Why? Hey, Julio, you gonna be okay?" she asked. "It was just his time to go. Sure, it was an awful way, but at least his suffering is over now," she added. 

"How can you say that? he yelled at her. "He was murdered!" turning away from her. 

* * *

_Power manifests_

Julio had been eleven when he his father was murdered right in front of his eyes, and the memory was still painful, still haunted him. He thought he should be grateful his mother was still alive, and life went on. Two years later, he still felt a tight fist of resentment deep in his gut over what had happened. 

His cousin, Candia tried to console him, she was well meaning, but he didn't want to be consoled. She clung to all during the funeral going on and on about how Louis was in a better place, that his suffering was over now. Julio tried to put those thoughts out of his mind, it was bad enough trying to fend Candia. It was hard to ignore her though, she always wore tank tops and cut-off denim shorts.   
She had allowed her long black hair grow almost to her waist, second cousin or not, she was still family. 

He was momentarily knocked off his feet by a group of drunks coming out of a bar, his cousin Omar in the lead. 

"Hey, Julio! he yelled, "Come join us." he weaned unsteadily, a bottle of vodka in one hand, a gun in the other. Another group of drunks shouldered their way past the first, lurching into Omar. Julio watched as his cousin swiveled bringing up one hand and aiming a right hook toward the offender's eye 

He missed by a mile. Growing angry, he brought up the other hand and pulled the trigger, causing events to spiral out of control and breaking into a brawl. 

Julio couldn't stand it._ "Can't they see how stupid they're being?"_ he thought 

Even though he knew that Omar regularly drank with his buddies, this was too much.   
The fist of disappointment and anger clenched inside of him, feeling, emotions he'd learned to bottle up exploded. 

Bringing up both hands in front, responding to some unnamed and unknowable instinct, Julio brought his fingertips held outward like aiming a gun. From some source deep inside of him came forth an energy he never knew he had. Green energy played about his clenched fists and spread out towards the group of fighting men, toppling them from their feet, guns hitting the ground with a metallic clan. They were sprayed with a shower of wood, masonry, and concrete falling apart like a lake that had a heavy weight dropped into it. 

Buildings in radius of two blocks collapsed upon their foundations. 

The men were swept up in a green circle of energy coming from the boy's hands.   


Realizing that the green energy was his, Julio was more shocked than the men staring at him were. Julio dropped to his knees, staring in mute appeal at his cousin, his friends, people he thought he knew staring at him like they'd never seen him before. 

Screaming in wordless pain, Julio picked himself and ran away from the scene. Tears fell unheeded downs his face. 

***** 

__

Later That evening 

Julio locked his room, hoping that Candia wouldn't barge in with another attempt to persuade him to try another board game or watch a movie.   
He pulled out all his dresser drawers and stuffed his clothes into a leather suitcase without bothering to fold anything. He'd already raided the kitchen for stuff to take in his backpack. By morning he'd be gone and he'd never look back. 

"It's for the best, I don't know what's going on with me. But it's too dangerous for   
me to stay here," he muttered, stuffing a few odds and ends into the suitcase,   
along with several books he'd planned on taking along to read, then zipped up the suitcase. 

Running away sounded like a wonderful plan at first. Sure, it would solve all his   
problems, the void he felt inside after his father's death, Candia's sometimes   
comforting, sometimes tedious presence, and Omar's drunken episodes. It would   
also solve a general feeling of not fitting in anywhere. 

Slinging the backpack across his shoulders, Julio snagged the suitcase, debating   
whether or not to leave a note, but what would he write? 

"_Perdon, mi famila, but I have to leave because I just wrecked two city blocks_

__

with some weird green energy?" "Yeah, that would go over well, Not," he thought. 

Julio finished stuffing the suitcase, then glared at the inoffensive piece of   
luggage for a while, wondering for the first time if he'd made the right decision, 

"I've gone too far to turn back now," he muttered. 

He left the house, taking his ten speed and the money he'd been saving and headed for the bus station. . 

* * *

__

San Francisco, California 

Three weeks and two hundred dollars later, Julio found himself in San Francisco. He'd taken odd jobs here and there to supplement his funds by translating for farmers and families along the border and in small towns on his way to the big city. 

His first glimpse of the city by the Bay was the impressive Golden Gate Bridge reflecting the afternoon sunlight. 

Once here, Julio didn't quite know what to do with himself. Running away was a lot more complicated than he'd thought. 

Walking up and down the storefronts of the famous Nob Hill, he occupied himself by window shopping, spending hours in the bookstore, amazed by the array of titles. Scanning titles in the mystery section, he nearly toppled a stack of paperbacks precariously leaning up against a wall. A tall man, blonde hair and glasses, which looked for the entire world, like some Hollywood version of a trial lawyer, stood next to him. 

"You like mysteries, kiddo?" the man said. 

"Si, Mister," Julio, said, trying to play dumb until he could figure out what the man wanted with him, he knew he didn't want to strike up conservation with a perfect stranger. 

"My name is Cameron Hodge." 

"_Like that was supposed to mean something to me?"_ Julio thought. 

"I've got a mystery for you." He nodded and pulled out a can of mace then sprayed it 

directly into Julio's eyes a split second before he realized there was something fishy   
about this hombre. 

"_Something tells me I should get the hell out of here_," he thought. 

Then everything went black. 

******_ 

An ivory tower in the heart of downtown San Francisco served as the headquarters of the Right Organization.   
Their founder and leader was Cameron Hodge. The Right started out in the late 70's as an offshoot of other self righteous vigilante groups, by some white supremacists, likes the Ku Klux Klan. There was one glaring difference the Right was part of the rising upswing in anti mutant hysteria sweeping the nation. 

Cameron Hodge had learned of the boy Julio Esteban Richter from a rather unlikely source, the boy's cousin. The man hadn't known what mutants were, only that he'd seen the boy flare up months ago, taking out several city blocks and injuring several drunken men involved in a street brawl. The resulting property damage in the official newspaper reports had been attributed to a ground soil collapse. In some accounts, just a random earth tremor, or a mild earthquake not strong enough to register on the Richter scale. The irony wasn't lost on Cameron Hodge. 

"Are we awake yet?" the mocking voice asked, echoing over and over is head; as his cousin Candia would have said, "like that annoying song that's stuck in your head and you can't get rid of it?" Julio didn't know where he was, but given the ache spreading all over his body, he surmised that whereabouts were the least of his concerns. 

He didn't want the owner of the mocking voice to know that he was awake. A numb sensation and the general unresponsiveness of his body probably meant they or whoever they were had used some stronger drug on him than mace sprayed in   
his eyes. What he couldn't figure was **why?**

Julio stirred and rolled over on his side, realizing that he'd been lying on a metal gurney like he'd seen in hospitals. 

"Who are you? Why have you brought me here?" he demanded. 

"Good. You're awake." I believe we've already met, but time was of the essence and I had to dispense with the formal introductions. As you know,   
I am Cameron Hodge and you are Julio Esteban Richter. And from the   
moment you set foot in my ivory tower, you're my prisoner," Hodge explained. 

"Madre de Dios" What do you want with me?" 

"I am the leader of the Right Organization. Founded for one purpose and one   
purpose only, to flush out and study so-called "Children of the Atom", mutants,   
dear boy, like you." 

"I don't believe you," Julio retorted. 

"Whether you believe me or not, is immaterial. You don't even realize that's   
what you are. Oh, that weird green energy emanates from your hands. Bet that shocked you?" 

`"How do you know about that? 

"I have my sources." 

"So I'm a mutant, whatever that means. What now?" 

"Now, we have a little fun," Hodge replied, holding up a pair of hot pokers. 

"You're going to torture me?" 

"Smart boy. Exactly. I'm going to torture you. For several reasons: One, I want to know what a mutant's threshold of pain is; Two, I like to watch my prisoners suffer; and Three, which is the most important reason. I've done some cross-checking, and I've managed to pin down exactly what you're particular mutant powers: kinetic vibratory blasts," Hodge explained. 

"Huh?" 

"In other words, Julio, you can generate energy wavelengths capable of causing an effect akin to an earthquake. because of an genetic imbalance referred to as the X-Factor." 

"You're one sick bastard, you know that?" Julio said defiantly. 

"Thank you, As I was saying, I will torture you until you agree to meet my demands. It might take days, it might take hours, who knows? Hodge shrugged. "But understand one thing, my seismic mover and shaker, however long it takes, your newly manifested powers will either be voluntary used to topple San Francisco or I will force you to do it. Either way, my organization will be able to point a legitimate finger at you, and say, 'there goes a dangerous mutant menace to society, and it must be stopped," Hodge grinned. 

Julio's heart sank deeper than the San Marina's ocean trench. This Hodge hombre was mad and the worst part of it was, he was going to drag Julio down with him when all hell broke loose. That he was some kind of mutant because of a genetic X-Factor was easier to accept than what was happening to him. 

Gritting his teeth and trying to block from his mind any pain sensations as Hodge inflicted torture after torture on him. He refused to scream, not wanting the sadistic man to get any satisfaction out of it. If he was a mutant, so be it, but he wasn't about to let this bastard with a vendetta use him as some weapon or worse yet, someone to take the blame when something went wrong. 

He'd just arrived in San Francisco. He'd always heard that California was the land of dreams, well, this was turning out to be a nightmare. 

Ripples of pain lanced through and rational thought slipped away into a black void. 

****** 

Julio had been dragged kicking and screaming, tossed in the trunk of a car. Taken to a focal point in the city, Julio's feet were chained to a stone mounting block to prevent him from running away. He'd be locked up there until Hodge decided it was time to unleash his 'seismic' powers against an unsuspecting city. 

Hodge used the key to the manacles to lock Julio securely in place, then used a connecting cable to join the conduits in the mounting blocks as a link from the mobile generators to insure maximum possible range. 

Then it started. 

Hodge flicked a switch on the generator and the green energy flowed from Julio's hands against his will. He could only see the damage from his newly awakened powers in the immediate vicinity. 

Hodge was using the equipment to increase the range. He saw storefronts, homes, buildings, crumple like they were being hit with a wrecking ball. Paved streets buckled sending shards of concrete flying as if imploded from below. He saw people running inside and outside, cars jamming up from the resulting bottleneck, and he heard screaming. 

Abruptly the flow from the generator cut off. The green energy from his hands flickered and went out. He felt about as wrung out as a wet rag. 

"Why are you stopping?" Hodge yelled, jumping up and down, in his fury he was nearly   
incoherent. "According to my readings, the epicenter hasn't even reached the suburbs yet." 

Two men and a woman in black designer suits came around from the back of the generator. All were armed with handguns. Julio half expected them to flash some sort of official badge. Instead, they pointed the guns at Hodge. 

"Cameron Hodge, we find you in violation of the Amnesty International codes governing human rights," the woman announced. 

"You must be kidding!" Hodge exclaimed. 

"Let me assure you, I am not," the woman replied. 

"Who are you people?" 

"That's immaterial, but if you must know we're called M.U.S.E. and Julio Esteban Richter is coming with us. Now release him from those chains. NOW!" 

One of the men strode forward and snatched the key from Hodge's hand.   
He released Julio from the manacles, chaffing his wrists, and gave him a lotion.   
"Rub this on your hands and feet, boy. Don't worry, "No te preocupes. Lo entienes? Tu estas seguro ahora." 

Julio took the man at his word, and the lotion, somewhat reassured by the fact the man was speaking Spanish to him and that the others were trying to help him. Stumbling out of the mounting block, he staggered over behind the three people in black. 

"Who are you? " Julio asked, rubbing away at his various aches and pains. 

"Voy a explicar mas tarde, chico." 

"Somewhere away from here." 

"In fact, I think you'll like it. Well get you squared away, and when you're ready, we'll find you a nice place to live," one of the men said. 

"Huh?" Julio gasped. 

"I guess its time for the explanation, but not here,'t the woman said. 

"I have rights!" Hodge protested. 

"Not here, you don't,". the man who'd spoken Spanish, muttered. 

"Let's go, Julio, we'll tell you more somewhere in private, and a lot safer than here," the woman said. Turning to Hodge, getting 'in his face' she glared at him. "Don't think you're getting off easy. The three walked away from the scene, placing Julio in the middle of the impromptu group, leaving Hodge to clean up his own mess. 

**** 

__

Later 

"So, what's the deal?" Julio asked, flopping down on a nice, comfy hotel room bed. 

"We don't have the authority or the manpower to shut organizations like Hodge's dirty Right outfit. But we can help rescue mutants in trouble, like you," one man said. 

"It's time for that explanation. MUSE is an acronym that stands for Mutant Underground Support Engine. We're a network of concerned   
individuals trying to protect mutants from the rising anti mutant sentiment in this country. By the way, I'm Lucas Wydham." 

"Yeah, nice to meet you. Guess you already know who I am?" Julio grumped. 

"The woman tossed him his backpack, "Dr. Nancy Parsons. Here's something you lost that you might want back," she added. 

"How'd you find this?" 

"We're not without resources of our own," Dr. Parson said. 

"Well, what happens now?" 

"What were your plans before Hodge got his mitts on you?" the other man said. 

"I was making it up as went," Julio replied. 

"We can offer you a better alternative than that," Parsons said. 

"Such as?" Julio demanded. 

"You have every right to be suspicious, and caution is well advised. You've been through a lot, " the other man said. 

"It's not that I'm not grateful for the save and all, he trailed off. 

"You're not sure if you should trust us," Parsons finished. 

"The way we work is not just finding young mutants in trouble, we also take them to a secure location, provide them with clothing, shelter, you know the drill. Once they've had sufficient training in the use of their powers, we set them up with an accommodating foster family." 

"Kind of implying that I can't go back to my real family, and that I don't really have any place to go right now." 

"Smart kid." Uh, I forgot, the name's Cedric Barnes." 

"Sounds like a plan. And this works, you train me, work with me, and then just screen people who want to adopt foster kids?" Julio demanded. 

"We have a renovated 19th century brownstone near Boston. It's in the countryside, away from populated areas," Wydham started. 

"So any accidental damage your powers may cause during training sessions will be limited to a smaller, unpopulated area," Barnes concluded. 

"Ill call the airlines and make all the arrangements for the four of us. It's your decision; we're here to help. Please believe when I say, MUSE   
is dedicated to doing what we can for mutants. We try to provide as 'normal' a life as possible, " Dr. Parsons said. 

"I guess I believe you. It's just that I'm still in shock from everything's that happened," Julio said, rather dazed and confused. 

"Get some sleep, kiddo. Probably the earliest flight we'd be able to get out of California to the East Coast will be the redeye," Wydham said. 

"Yeah, probably." he was kinda liking this Wydham hombre. 

Julio flopped back on the bed, sinking down into the mattress, pulling the sheets up over his head. He was grateful for the rescue from Hodge's clutches, and that they genuinely wanted to help. In the back of his mind, the rational part was telling him to not be so hasty with his decision,. Another part of that operated on instinct, told the rational side to shut up and get some sleep.   
"Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, at least, I hope so," he said. The emotional side won, because of an overwhelming fatigue swept over him, as he conked out. 

"Nice kid. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Dr. Parsons sighed. 

"Kind of stubborn though. Kid's got a head start on his powers, he just needs control and maybe a little more focused direction. I think we're really doing the right thing here, Wydham," Barnes remarked. 

Ill go make the call,." Dr. Parsons said, leaving the room. "The sooner we're in Boston and away from here, the better Ill feel, " she said, over her shoulder. 

"You got my vote there," Barnes replied, as the three left the room to leave the physically and mentally drained boy, sleeping. 

__

To be continued in "Juxtaposition" featuring Shatterstar.   
http://www.geocities.com/karrenia_rune/Juxtaposition2a.html

http://www.geocities.com/karrenia_rune/Enter.htm (Siryn)

Main Page: http://www.geocities.com/karrenia_rune/XFORCEfanfiction.htm


	2. Juxtaposition

****

Disclaimer: Shatterstar, Rictor, Boomer, Spiral, Mojo, and all related 

X-Force characters, including MUSE, are the property of Marvel Comics.   
I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes. 

Note: An attempt to clarify Shatterstar's origin, as confusing as it is.   
The sequel to my other story: MailMe   
You Only Live Twice: On Shaky Ground 

****

"Juxtaposition" by Karen Galarneault 

****

INTRO: 

Julio Richter had spent five months with MUSE, a relocation program for young mutants in crisis. He now had a better grasp of the scope and limits of his powers. More importantly he had learned to control the directionless anger he'd bottled up inside over his father's murder.   


MUSE had proven as good as their word: Lucas Wydham resembled a surrogate father and a drill sergeant rolled into one. 

"Must be all that NASA officer training paying off big time," he said. Dr. Nancy Parsons was a school-marm in a designer suit, but she knew her stuff. She kept up, not only with his training, but his education, too.   


"You know, there's something to be said for public education,' he griped, glaring down at an accumulating pile of homework he'd been assigned. 

He'd just written and mailed a letter to his cousin, Candia, he'd asked her to read it to his mother. In it, he explained why he'd had to run away from home. Hopefully they'd understand. Squirming around a bit, he found a more comfortable position on the black leather sofa. 

MUSE had found him a foster family in Boston. "Never imagined I'd wind up in the ' the East Coast," he remarked. 

Both his foster parents were professionals: one a banker, the other a real estate agent.   
they knew he was a mutant, yet they'd welcomed him into their home with open arms. 

"I bet if Mrs. Morgan had a chance to see the place belonging to M.U.S.E, she'd haveta bank her commissions from the houses she sells," "he trailed off, wondering not for the first time, at how 'limited" their resources really were. 

"Julio, hadn't you better get ready for practice," Mrs. Morgan called down from upstairs, 

"You don't want to be late." 

"Sure, mamasita," he called back, jumping up from the sofa, and rushing off to get his equipment and change into to his uniform. He dressed quickly. He quickly jammed all of his stuff into his duffel bag, then ran outside to wait in the driveway for Mrs. Morgan to bring the car around. 

* * *

__

Later 

Julio watched people and buildings sped by in a hazy blur as his foster-mother, Denise Morgan, drove him to field hockey practice. She'd called ahead to see if practice would be cancelled because of a bank of fog rolling in from the Atlantic coast. Fortunately, practice was still on. 

Upon reaching the park, Julio saw that others had already set up on the asphalt surface that served double duty as a basketball court. Unfastening his seat belt, he gave his foster-mom a quick hug, and ran off to join them. 

"Good luck, Julio, she called after him, "Don't play too rough." 

"Sure, mamaista." he yelled, slingng hi equipment bag slung over one shoulder. In his hurry he accidentally collided with a blond girl wearing   
sweats and green sunglasses over a pair of startling blue eyes. 

She was watching his team, The Bay Street Bombers, practice, getting ready for a scrimmage against the opposing team, the Miracle Mile Thunders. 

"Hey! Watch we're you're going! she yelled as they both toppled backwards, with her landing on top of him, as his equipment bag went flying to land with a thud, out of arm's reach. 

"Ugh,"he gasped. Julio absently noted that she was rather attractive if she hadn't been wearing so much makeup. "The Bay Street Bombers. " 

"Hey, which team you on?" she asked, picking herself up. He belatedly realized that they'd collided rather hard, but he couldn't quite make his tongue form the words "are you okay?" He shifted from one foot to the other, thinking of the right thing to say. She, however, didn't seem to have that problem. 

"You okay? Can I play, too?" she asked, fidgeting with her sunglasses. 

She gave him a quick searching glance that took in everything. 

Girls he mentally scoffed. 

"I don't see why not. It's coed after all," he replied. 

"Cool. Which team did you see you were on?" she asked. 

"The Bombers," he answered. 

"Sounds like my kind of team," she remarked, snapping her gum. 

"You got a name, chica?" Julio, asked, getting slightly annoyed with her. 

"Yeah, it's Tabitha Smith, and don't call me a 'chic. I hate that. What's your name? she said. 

"Julio Richter. My friends call me Ric. And for the record, I wasn't calling you anything like that. It's Spanish for; oh what's the use? Come on,   
I'll ask my coach if he's got any spare gear for you, Tabitha. You do know how to play?" he asked. walking towards the playing field. 

"Like Duh! Of course I do, Ric. You don't mind me calling you that?" raising one blond eyebrow, saying, "As if you needed to ask?" 

"Nah. Come on," Julio replied, as they both raced off towards the field. 

* * *

Ben Russell, number 7 of the Thunders, and Julio Richter, number 11 of the Bombers, take up positions on the center line, you're on pass-off this game," the coach ordered. 

"Smith," pointing at Tabitha, "you're new here, so take the back court. Don't argue with me, just get over there." the coach said, as 

Tabitha opened her mouth to protest, that new or not she could hack it just as well as the boys. She swallowed her words and her gum at the same time. 

The coach just glared at her, which made her decide to do what she was told for once. 

Seeing the wisdom of that, the redhead took up his stance at the indicated position, levering his playing stick to the ground.   


Julio followed suit on the opposite side. "No probelmo, jefe," Julio agreed.   


Ben Russell felt a momentary feeling of dejavu wash over him as he stared at the brown haired boy's face, like he knew that face in other place and time 

"Probably just some kid my team's played before." Ben shook off the odd felling of recognition, saving his concentration for the scrimmage. 

The referee dropped the ball on the asphalt surface dead center. Ben was a split-second faster and snagged the ball with his stick, whirling around with the ball pinioned , his teammates flanking him, while trying to prevent the players on the other team from gaining control of the ball. 

Seeing that the oddly familiar boy was catching up, intent on taking the ball away, Ben increased his speed. He pivoted on his heel and passed the ball to his nearest teammate.   


Ben's agility made him a natural at the game as he headed for the goal, seemingly careening around obstacles presented by Julio and Tabitha's teammates like they weren't even there. He scored the first goal. 

Later in the game, Julio signaled to Tabitha and they both split laterally across the field. Tabitha being smaller and faster got there first, snatching away the object of contention and made a mad dash for the goal, passing it to Julio at the last minute. 

Enroute, in the time it took to get past the blockade of other players. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tabitha make a signal to take the shot,   
and leave caution to the winds. Julio yanked back the playing stick and swiped the ball into the goal; wishing the ball along as it sailed through the air that it'd land between the goal posts. Someone must have heard his unspoken thoughts for the sphere whipped bast the goal tender and landed smack dab behind him. 

Play commenced in the allotted hour game, with points shifting up and down; with only a few seconds left, Ben maneuvered an high arcing shot toward the Bomber's goal, despite Julio and Tabitha's best efforts to block his path.   


He took his shot, as the ball sailed over their hands to come to a graceful landing behind the goalie. A perfect shot that won the game for the Thunders. The referee went to the centerline and called the game over.   
  
"I'd like to shake the hand of the person who scored the winning goal," Julio said, walking over to the Thunder's side of the field. 

"Sure" Ben said, extending one hand for Julio to grasp, then Ben started to pump his hand up and down for all he was worth, taking his hand back and stuffed both into his jeans pockets. 

"Hey, Ric, you want to bring Ben along and we'll go somewhere else in the park, say by the picnic benches?" Tabitha asked, stepping in between the two boys, her gum plastered to her face. She stared up at them, since she stood at about chin level with Julio, and the redhead was even taller. Julio tried to hold back the laughter at the sight of Tabitha, gum be-smeared, figuring it'd earn him at the least a snappy remark or a jab in the ribs with her elbow. 

"Ah, that's Tabitha Smith," he said, gesturing towards her, "And I'm Julio Richter," he finished the round of introductions. 

"I'm Benjamin Russell." 

"Let's go," Tabitha said as they walked over to another section of the park.   
  


All three, having skipped the picnic table in favor of a shady oak tree sat on the ground with their backs against it. Their legs sprawled out in front of them, like spokes on a wheel. 

Tabitha took over her sunglasses and peered at each of the boys.   
"Can you keep a secret?" she asked, taking a deep breath. 

"Mum's the word," Julio replied, holding a finger to his mouth. 

"Well, if it's a secret, you shouldn't tell, then it won't be a secret..." Ben trailed off. 

He found himself warming up to both the Mexican boy and the blond girl almost immediately.   
His aunt kept him pretty much secluded in their two-story house, except for going to school   
and taking him to field hockey matches. Otherwise he didn't get out much.   
He wanted these people to become his friends. 

"Ben, if Tabitha wants to tell us, that means she trusts us to keep her secret," Julio said. 

"Exactly. You see I haven't always lived in Boston. I used to live in a trailer park in Jonestown, Pennsylvania," Tabitha continued. 

"Neither have I, you can tell by the accent," Julio added. 

"Yeah, you're from Mexico,. it wasn't that obvious, but let me finish." Tabitha flopped down on her stomach, her sunglasses falling to the ground. 

"We'll take turns telling secrets," Ben said, bending over to pick up the sunglasses, then handed them back to her. 

"Yeah, then we'll pass out secret decoder rings," Julio muttered, tearing up blades of grass. 

"Will you shut up, Ric?" Tabitha snapped. 

He squirmed around, but remained silent. 

"Thank you. Okay, I'll just warn you, it isn't pretty. You see, I think I'm one of those, uh, mutants," Tabitha hesitantly whispered. 

"We believe you," both boys said together. 

"You do?" Tabitha's blue eyes widened in shock.   
She thought back to her life after she'd run away from home, a trailer park and the only place she'd ever called home. 

"I just couldn't take it anymore. My dad's drunken scenes, his withdrawal from me. I'd finally had to split, lived as best I could on the street, until ChildWatch found me." They'd brought her to live with a foster family here in Boston. 

"Life sure has a funny way of twisting people's lives around," she thought, staring off into space, completely oblivious to the boys staring at her. 

"I have to, you see, I'm a mutant also," Julio said, thinking back to the first time his power manifested all those months ago in Guadalajara and later how Cameron Hodge used his powers in San Francisco for his own ulterior motives. He could readily sympathize with Tabitha's situation. It couldn't have been easy for her. 

Julio's last comment snapped Tabitha out of her bittersweet memories of the past, focusing her attention as Ben added his own revelation. 

"That makes it unanimous," Ben said. 'My Aunt Rita says that I'm special. But, ever since I turned thirteen, I've been able to channel sound through my hands. She won't let me handle sharp objects," he explained. 

"Weird," Tabitha commented. "Well, until you literally bumped into me, Ric, I've been so terrified of telling anyone." 

"We've all heard stories that there must be something wrong with you because you're a mutant," Julio said. 

"You can say that again, Ric, but do us all a favor, and don't," Tabitha said, popping her gum. 

"So what's your 'dazzle'?" Ben asked, leaning forward, hanging on the blond girl's every word, ignoring their previous exchange. 

"I, uh generate time-bombs of explosive energy. I kinda blow stuff up," Tabitha replied, back-pedaling from Ben's intent stare, she then circled   
around the tree before coming back to join the boys. "What's yours, Ric?" 

"I create vibratory waves from my hands. How good are you at controlling it?" he replied. 

"Well," Ben replied, "I have to be careful, Aunt Rita says that if I channel too much sound I'm liable to either deafen myself or knock myself out," Ben shrugged it off, as if saying that sort of thing happened every day, so it was no big deal. 

"Me, I'm practicing making different timebombs, but sometimes I make duds. And, Ric, I'm not really up on this whole mutant thing, so what the heck does 'vibratory waves' mean?" Tabitha asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose where her sunglasses made it itch. 

"I can resonate them along the ground to create a mini-earthquake, or through the air, to sort make stuff topple down. The people who rescued me taught me that I needed not just control, but..." Julio trailed off. 

"Discipline," Ben finished, standing up to stretch. 

"Yeah I had a lot of stuff bottled up inside," Julio agreed, shuffling his feet,   
a little uncomfortable sharing his feelings. 

"Me, too," Tabitha said, filling the silence. "You see, my Mom was great, but she died when I was really little. My Dad didn't handle that at all well. I think he really loved her, but after he refused to talk about her, tell me what she was like, and stuff, now that she was gone. So, he started drinking..."   


"And when he drank, he got mean," Ben said in sympathy for Tabitha's obviously unhappy home-life. At least she'd had parents. He'd never known his real parents; he barely remembered anything about his past until he'd come to live with his aunt. He'd asked once, but she'd gone silent, hidden all the photo albums. She'd given him the cold shoulder treatment for three weeks before their relationship had gone back to its normal routine. Ben had never asked about his parents again. 

"Julio, do you have parents?" Ben asked, curious to know learn more about his new friends. 

"Yeah, I come from a real large family in Mexico. But a lot of that anger I told ya about, was dealing with seeing my father murdered right in front of my face," Julio answered, striding off a little ways from them. 

"That must've royally sucked. I mean, you were a kid and all. I guess we all have sob stories," Tabitha said soothingly, patting him on the shoulder. "Guys, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." 

"That's corny, but what did you expect?" Ben grinned, making his freckles stand out.   
"You know I've been thinking, Since we're all mutants, and we've got a lot in common. You know what we should do. Form a club," Ben finished. 

"Just for mutants like us," Tabitha added, spouting a sphere of energy from her left hand. 

"Agreed, but just to make it official, we should have a initiation ceremony," Ben said, brushing back a lock of red hair from his eyes. 

"Yeah, some kind of oath, pinkie swear, friends forever, soul-mates till the end," Tabitha said, holding out her right hand with the small finger crooked, 

"You in, Ric?" she asked, her blue eyes staring into his brown ones. 

"Si, Tabitha." Julio said extending his own left hand and twining the smallest finger around hers, "Friends Forever, Soul-Mates." Para siempre." Ben switched places with Julio and went through the same performance. 

"We should have code names now that we're a secret club," Ben said after doing the pinkie swear. 

"Okay, since I blow stuff up, you call me Boomer, 'cause it's the sound my time-bombs make," Tabitha announced. 

"Uh, it's just a coincidence, but you might as well stick with Richter, it's the same as the scale for measuring earthquakes," Julio explained. 

"Okay, Rictor," Tabitha said, pronouncing it without the letter H. 

"How about you, Ben. I mean we can't all be in the club and not have cool codename," Julio said. 

"I've always liked the name Shatterstar," Ben said. 

"Then Shatterstar it is. Weird, but..." 

"The next order of business is deciding when we'll meet again," Ben said. 

After some thought, they decided they'd wait for the next weekend game before the   
newly-forged club met again. 

They were completely unaware that they'd had an unseen observer the entire time. She was intensely interested in all of them, especially the red-haired boy. He'd inadvertently had given himself the name he'd bear into the future.   
  


__

Mojoworld, 100 years in the future 

Spiral sat in the swivel studio chair, her arms; all six of them crossed one over the other. Her silver eyes, like pools of molten quicksilver stared at the computer monitors in the control room. She watched the three young mutants pledge to be friends forever. 

"Was I ever that young?" Spiral mused, running a hand through her silver hair; another hand angrily swiped her helmet off a nearby table. 

"You got a live-feed from that Terran dimension?" So much entertainment value," a disembodied voice echoed through a loudspeaker, interrupting her thoughts. 

"Is that all you ever think about, Mojo? And to answer your question, I think they call it Boston," she answered. 

"I'm not really up on Earth Civics, isn't that were they dumped a ton of beverage into the sea?" Mojo jeered. 

"That was tea, two hundred years ago from our current time-lapse scene we're viewing here," Spiral explained. "Ah, we've got to get someone to help with the filing," she muttered, gazing with critical attention at her ruby painted nails. 

"And I do always think about ratings, time-dancer. That's how Mojo Networks stays in power.   
Be a dear, and bring my delightful plaything and his new friends here. I want to give them a casting-call, " Mojo cackled, nearly threatening to split his face in half. 

"What if I don't want to?" Spiral sighed, "You have no idea of how utterly fed up, how furious I am with those petty network games you call entertainment," Spiral griped, thinning her red lips, her eyes flashing, two hands resting at her hips, three others itching to throttle her boss. 

"Who cares what you want! It's what I want!" Mojo screamed, his gruesome face appearing on another monitor. His obscene joy made his numerous chins jounce up and down in irate glee. 

"All right, all right, I'm going. Stop screaming, you'll liable to bust a gut." 

"Everybody's a comedian," the corpulent alien programmer sighed.   


"At least this way I'll have no more syndicated re-runs. Mojoworld is a land where entertainment is the be-all and end-all of existence, and I call the shots! Sit-coms are highly over-rated. I want action, action, and action! I want blood, I want guts!" Mojo gibbered, his prehensile tail smacking the metal floor. 

"Blow it out the nearest airlock," Spiral's voice echoed in the cavernous control room. She began twirling in a dizzying circular dance, three arms raised as if reaching for the ceiling, the other three wrapped tightly around herself. The lines of frustration and anger smoothed from her face, as she called the time-winds down to obey her every command. The air fizzled around her, opening a gateway in the space-time continuum, a curtain of fire and light. This was her access to the Wildways enroute to twentieth century Earth. 

She'd been sent to claim Benjamin Russell, her current focal point in time.   
He'd known her as Aunt Rita; she'd raised him, now as Spiral, she had to retrieve to be used as a pawn in alien tyrant's machinations.   


The newly-forged club had decided to rendezvous at the Starbright Video Arcade for no other reason than it was a local teen-hangout and that if anyone overheard them talking about powers, they'd assume it was just some sort of code for beating the latest shoot-em-up video game. 

Ben was running late, he found that the other members of the club had already arrived. Tab, or Boomer as she preferred to be called had ordered for everyone. She'd gotten tacos for Rictor, thinking he would be missing home-cooked food, and three sodas. 

He overheard Rictor telling her that tacos weren't authentic Mexican food. The two spotted hovering near the entrance and waved him over.   
"I've never had this before," Ben said, joining his friends at their table. 

"Go ahead and eat, before it gets gold, Star," Rictor said. 

"You have to learn to expand your horizons," Boomer added. 

"So,"" the word hung in the air as the interior of the video arcade fazed out   
and a woman with six-arms and silver hair emerged from a curtain of fire and light. 

"Auditions are open," the exotically familiar woman announced in a sibilant voice. Whipping out three arms, she snagged Ben, Julio and Tabitha   
and thrust them bodily into the warping energy field that had been torn in space-time continuum. "Talk about a captive audience," she muttered. 

Turning to the stunned crowd, she announced:   
"Shatterstar has left the building." Without further ado, Spiral pivoted on her heel and stepped through the portal enroute to Mojoworld. 

"Virtual reality was never this real," someone nearby muttered. 

"Yeah, man. I gotta stop playing video games, way too addictive, sensory overload and all that,"   
his friend replied. 

"Yeah, that woman had six arms," the other answered.   
  


__

Mojoworld, Reprise 

A gigantic bowl-shaped valley in the midst of a vast-plain opened up before the three young mutants. It hailed back to the Coliseum of the Ancient Romans, the only thing that detracted from the symmetry between then and now were the harsh fluorescent lights, the endless row of viewing stands, and the high-tech monitoring and security systems. 

Shatterstar, Rictor, and Boomer emerged from Spiral dimensional gateway, staggering from the inevitable cobwebs caused by trans-spatial travelling through the shifting time currents. Their guts were roiling and their heads reeling. 

"Ugh, me without my Dramamine," Boomer, as usual, was the first to find her voice and words to utter. 

"Not funny, B," Rictor coughed. gasping for air. 

"Who asked you, Rictor?" Getting off her hands and knees, she gave their surroundings a 360-degree inspection. "Star, any idea where we are?" she asked. 

"I think it's some sort of arena. We're on display," Shatterstar answered. 

"I feel like a mannequin in a glass enclosed display window from a department store."   


Staring down at her feet, Boomer discovered that she was actually 'on display' approximately seventy-five feet above the heads of a crowd of packed spectators 

The playing field resembled the park where the Pirates played and someone had tacked on Shea Stadium for a touch of overkill. 

"I am psychic or what?" Boomer joked, shaking off a touch of vertigo. 

The two boys simply gave her blank stares at her last comment. A 'Huh?" hanging like a thundercloud about to unleash its gallon of rain on their heads. 

"Cue wardrobe!" a disembodied voice yelled. "I mean, sheesh, they look like they dressed out the discards of the Salvation Army." Suddenly as if someone had heard her comment about mannequins, the clothes they'd had disappeared as if being removed by invisible fingers. 

"What is this, come as you aren't party?" Boomer griped. 

Shatterstar's jeans and T-shirt replaced by a flowing caftan like white outfit and a blue cape draped over his shoulders, with two double-bladed   
swords strapped to his back. Along with the change in attire, a strange feeling swept over him. It felt as if his personality and memories of   
Benjamin Russell was being erased and another personality was taking its place. 

Boomer's halter and jeans were replaced by a pink skin-tight bodysuit. Rictor's T-shirt and jeans by blue skin-tight Spandex criss-crossed with black lines, and a black shirt, whose most prominent feature was a larger than life red X in the middle. 

"Talk about being dressed to kill," Boomer joked. 

"That's the spirit. But you weren't hired to ad-lib your own dialogue. This is a cold-reading," Spiral commented. "They're here, Mojo," she added, stepping out of her portal, right behind the kids, to stand atop a platform that could be raised and lowered on a hydraulic platform. 

A panel near their enclosed opened to reveal that it connected to the main control room. An obese alien rolled out on a conveyance that looked barely solid enough to hold his bulk. He resembled an overgrown slug with a prehensile tail; his color was a blend of off-white and yellow.   
He smiled evilly, threatening to split his face in half. 

"Welcome to Mojoworld, kiddies. I'm your host. Mojo, programmer extrradonaire. This is a cold reading. This dimension is where ratings and entertainment is the be-all and end-all of existence. In case, you haven't been paying attention is my dimension!   
Either play by my rules or get crushed!" he hollered at the top of his high-pitched lungs, threatening to deafen them all. 

"All right, kiddies, you're properly attired. Now get my 'star' and his friends out on the arena floor. It's show-time!" Mojo announced. 

"Mojoworld." Star replied laconically. He'd only spent several minutes, but unlike his friends, he found himself acclimatizing much faster than either of them. It was like that odd sense of deja vu he'd experienced during the field hockey game, only more so.   


So, as he listened to the high-pitched laughter of the alien programmer, Mojo, in a way he couldn't describe, he'd been here before, that somehow   
this place was connected with the missing pieces of his own past. As more and more pieces fell into place, he'd been able to retrieve bits and pieces of knowledge about this Mojoworld.   


The three found themselves on a rotating platform in the midst of the arena, with a mixed bag of spectators packed into the viewing stands.   
On the platform directly opposite them stood about two dozen armed goons, some with high-powered, futuristic rifles, others with an assortment of a weapons that would make a weapons collector swoon. 

"So, you got any bright ideas?" Rictor asked, not really expecting a response. 

To his surprise Shatterstar had one. 

"Yes. We take the fight to them," Shatterstar replied, drawing the twin-bladed swords from his back, then leapt into the fray, deifying gravity with every move perfectly executed, shearing heads and arms off his opponents.   


In a corner of his mind, he knew that whatever the time lapse between 20th century Boston and this alien landscape, he never would have been able to do this. He let instinct take over, and he lost himself in the furor of battle. 

"Great plan," Boomer muttered, shaking her head in amazement. 

"Hey, Boomer, you said you've been practicing making timebombs, right?" 

She nodded. "Here's a perfect opportunity to do it for real," Rictor said. 

"Okay, I rock their world, you disorient them by spinning your time-bombs in random patterns across the arena. Try not to get hit by any of that armament," Rictor said. Suiting action to words, he brought up the green energy from his hands and sent it lancing through the air, knocking a quartet of armored goons off their feet in a coruscating circle. They dropped their weapons and were sent spinning through the air, arms and legs wind milling. It was a vain attempt to regain equilibrium where none existed. 

"Do you have a better plan?" Rictor asked, tossing the question over his shoulder to her. 

"No, Okay, but if we survive this, we'll discuss who gets to give orders," Boomer said, bringing up two spheres of glowing energy from her hands. 

"We should live that long," Rictor growled. 

Boomer refused to show how scared she was, it was very well for her to boast that she knew how to control, let alone use her powers, but it was another thing entirely to be called upon to prove it. Her two best friends, being typical guys, obviously weren't to go to let on that   
they were scared, so she'd wouldn't either. She brought up the energy and sent the spheres of energy arcing into the milling conflict. It was hard for her to throw time bombs and dodge energy blasts at the same time. She needed to be standing still in order to get good leverage   
for tossing her time-bombs. Counting how long it took before each one exploded helped her forget how nervous she was. In the back of her mind, she thought, "I hope those creeps watching this, get a good show." 

"Let us make this one for two worlds to remember!" Shatterstar yelled, launching himself into the air. 

A synthesized voice began a play by play summation of the action 

"The battle has increased to encompass the Spineless rebellion troops! 

Where did they come from? What's going on here?" it droned on, not realizing that none of the participants where paying attention, and neither   
was the audience. 

"Something they have long forgotten. A fight for freedom," Spiral said, emerging from the shadows. 

The announcer continued: "The Fang Troops are on the defensive! Ladies and Gentlemen, with the once-and future Shatterstar, and two members of the Terran strike force, fighting side by side, the Freeman armed Network is soon to fall!" 

"Rictor, Boomer, we must regroup. The key to ending this fight lies up there in the control room!" Shatterstar yelled, to be heard above the clamor of battle. 

"Read you loud and clear, Star," Rictor and Boomer yelled back in response.   


Later 

"What the hell happened?" Boomer demanded, huffing to get more oxygen into her lungs. 

"Yeah, that's what I'd like to know," Rictor gasped. 

"We've been transposed," Shatterstar replied. 

"You haven't been transposed, you've been juxtaposed," A woman's voice answered their question. 

The three turned to discover the source of the voice. It was the same silver-haired, six-armed woman   
who kidnapped them from Earth and dropped vthem into the middle of another dimension's   
bizarre blood-sport. 

"Welcome to my Inner Sanctum. I trust you enjoyed yourselves thoroughly?" she greeted them. She swiveled around in her high-backed chair, perched on it like it was her own throne. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Spiral, Mistress of the WildWays, and this my Inner Sanctum. "You want your questions answered, I find myself in the mood to be forthright with my answers. Take advantage of this opportunity, kiddies, this is a limited time offer." 

What does juxtaposition mean, Spiral?" Shatterstar demanded, dispensing with her lame attempts at pleasantry. 

"It means, dear boy, placing completely opposite ideas or situations in direct contact with each other. Future time and present time interconnecting in order to accomplish a given moment," Spiral explained, folding three arms, the other waving above the array of computer banks and control consoles lining her chamber. 

"That's paradox," Shatterstar said, utterly lost in a sea of warped logic. 

"So what? It worked, didn't it? You're here, your friends are here, and I'm here. Benjamin Russell is and always will be the once and future Shatterstar," Spiral announced. 

"I don't believe you," Shatterstar declared, folding his arms across his chest. 

"How else would you have known to call yourself that?" Spiral asked, raising one silver eyebrow. 

"Yeah, I say we torch the place," Boomer griped. "Time-travel makes my head hurt," she said, rubbing her temples. 

"Or we'll bring it down around their ears," Rictor said, bringing up the green energy from his hands. 

"Rictor, Boomer, you cannot believe her, she's obviously lying," Shatterstar said, trying to make himself believe it at the same time. 

"Benjamin, how can you say that, I raised you. Ah, ""How sharper than a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful child."" I trust you recognize the quote," Spiral smiled, showing off perfectly white, slightly pointed teeth. 

"Yeah, it's from KING LEAR, by William Shakespeare," Rictor replied. 

"Smart boy," Spiral remarked. 

"How do you know this stuff?" Boomer asked. 

"It's called reading, Boomer. You should try it some time," Rictor teased. 

"I am not a complete airhead!" Boomer snapped. 

"But we do not surrender! Mojo lives, programmer, by his obsession for power and desire to extend your own longevity past the point of cancellation! The ways of this world are over! No longer will we do what you want, Mojo! No longer will you tell us what to do! We will not play your games, and I will not allow anyone to pull this 'puppet's strings. My destiny, my identity may be a thing for you to manipulate. I don't believe in predestination, I make my own fate!" Shatterstar found himself declaring, unaware of the source of his own knowledge. 

"To continue our lesson in inter-dimensional physics, one or the other must occupy the same space in the confines of the space time continuum.   
As Mistress of the Wildways, I can bend the time currents to my will. See how easy that was? No need for threats, Shatterstar," Spiral smirked. 

"No threats, no riddles?" Shatterstar asked, perplexed. 

"So, its just a theory. right? That's what you did with Ben, uh Shatterstar's life.   
The whole time we, you, I mean Rita. Star's essence was drifting around and." Rictor tried a shot in the dark. 

"Essentially, yes," Spiral replied. "Benjamin Russell. When his mutant power or I should say, yours, manifested he was hurled into a coma. Since that day, well I did what I could. Let's just say that the lives of both young men mean more than all the world to me. Is it not enough that he will live to complete his life cycle." Spiral replied. 

"I don't understand, why would you, of all people, go to all that trouble?" Boomer asked. 

"I've just given him a taste of what is to come. As I mentioned earlier, the two essences, although existing in different time and space, can yet interconnect as one since I have juxtaposed them, by twisting strands of space and time. "Spiral shrugged. "Essentially making them one and the same, two souls in one body," Spiral explained. 

"So how do we get back to Earth?" Boomer, asked, what, to her was the most urgent, and obvious question. 

"You go through the portal," Spiral answered, gesturing to a platform near the far wall. 

"Then what was the point of bringing us to Mojoworld?" Shatterstar asked, puzzled by the elaborate ordeal they'd been forced to endure. 

"To shove the truth of your origins right under your nose, Shatterstar, to show that you will always be a part of the Mojoverse, and that your presence on Earth is only a temporary exile," Spiral replied. 

"In other words..," Boomer left her words hanging. 

"You've been syndicated," Mojo smirked, appearing on another monitor. 

"I thought you said, there'd be no more riddles," Shatterstar griped. 

"That wasn't a riddle, but I'll leave you to figure it out," Spiral said and exited through a sliding metal panel in the wall.   
  


__

X-Mansion Present Day 

"Intruder alert!" Cable shouted. raising two plasma rifles as he plunged headlong down the corridors in the direction of the Danger Room, where the early warning system indicated a security breach. 

"They all heard it, Nate. In fact, I think everyone in the X-Mansion heard, let alone the entire Westchester County," Domino said. 

"I wasn't that loud," Cable said defensively. 

"Yeah right," Domino shouted, pushing and shoving past the bulky, heavily   
muscled forms of both male teammates, to check out the situation. 

"He has a lot frustration to work off, let Jimmy handle it," Cable ordered. 

"And I don't," Domino snorted, ignoring the order, and rushing into the fray. 

"Okay, MTV pretty boys, playtime's over!" Jimmy yelled, big as his body was; he could still move remarkably fast, a fact that many of his opponents failed to recognize to their regret. Rushing forward at breakneck speed, the mutant Apache crashed full length into Shatterstar who neatly sliced through the Danger Room's programmable battledroids designed for training scenarios. 

Boomer stood off to one side tossing energy spheres at the holographic opponents, Rictor, literally caused the floor to buckle, like it was being   
hit by miniature earthquakes. 

The holographic opponents didn't faze Rictor or Boomer. Shatterstar simply leapt over increasingly widening cracks in the floor and proceeded to relieve the droids of their heads. 

"Isn't this where we came in?" Rictor quipped, dismantingly another droid by causing a holographic wall to collapse under extreme metal fatigue and crushed the droid beneath it. 

"Not exactly," Shatterstar said, taking the idiom literally. 

"So, where are we. This isn't Boston. I thought that time dohickey was, uh, cali-cali-..." Boomer stammered. 

"Calibrated," Shatterstar added helpfully. 

"I knew that!" she snapped. 

"To send us back to where we started," he finished. 

"Obviously something went wrong," an acerbic woman's voice finished.   


Dressed in a blue-white bodysuit, she had a black patch over one eye, she held a rope in her left hand. 

"Maybe you should be backing off. Although, personally I'd rather you didn't. I'm just the obligatory mother figure around her, so I thought   
I should give you a chance to save your teeth before I kick them in!" she yelled. 

"You pay heed to your own welfare, and don't mock me again!" Shatterstar answered, annoyed. 

"Have it your way, then," Domino stated agreeably. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you did." 

"I always have, always will. Fekt, you are fast, white-face. Do you have the courage to face me without leaping about like a dancer?" Shatterstar growled.   


Dropping to the ground, Domino, with blinding speed lanced out with her left leg and kicked Shatterstar right in the gut, sending him hurtling into the wall. 

"Hey, Star, you mind giving me a hand here?" Boomer yelled, having pinned up against the wall by a very large man who'd run into her like a linebacker in full blitz. Boomer found herself hovering about six feet off the ground. 

"Coming, Boomer!" the other boy yelled, having stopped nailing droids when the holograms vanished. His headlong dash toward his friends halted midway when he felt arm like steel wrap around his waist and lift him off his feet. Pressed up against the man's chest, he was brought face to face with a blast from the past. 

"Stryfe!" he exclaimed. 

"What did you say, kid?" Cable asked. 

"You're, the man who killed my father!" Rictor yelled. 

"Sorry to hear that, kid. But you've got a case of mistaken identity; I'm not Stryfe.   
Don't know what kind of back-story you've got. But he and I are one hundred percent not one and the same,' Cable explained. "You want down?" 

"Si, jefe," Rictor gasped. 

"Rictor, Boomer, I think it might be a good idea if we tried talking this out," Shatterstar decided. 

"Now, start from the beginning, leave nothing out," Cable ordered. 

"It's complicated," Shatterstar began. 

"Um, well we all met in Boston, we found that we had powers, then it gets uh, weird,"   
Boomer began. 

"Explain weird," Domino said. 

"Uh, well. We were kidnapped by an woman named Spiral who worked for an alien network programmer from another dimension who forced us to participate in his arena blood sport games, and," Rictor added. 

"It had to do with her plans for me. It has to do with a theory called juxtaposition," Shatterstar said. 

"Working theory?" Cable said, he'd been in enough situations that involved similar theories, that he wasn't about toss that out the window just yet. 

"Future time interconnects with past, allowing two polar opposites to exist in exact symmetry with one another. It wasn't supposed to happen, but my very existence as Shatterstar is a paradox. Apparently the ruler of this other dimension already has my future mapped out. I don't believe that my fate is predetermined, "Shatterstar explained. 

"So you left," Domino said. 

"Not exactly. We were allowed to leave, since our experience in Mojoworld happened before it occurred according to their timetable. Spiral warned me that that was only a taste of what's to come. And if this wasn't just another deception, then perhaps this is where we're supposed to end up," Shatterstar explained, heaving an annoyed sigh. 

"We're back on Earth! Yes!" Boomer shouted. 

"Okay, that explains him. What's your story, girl?" Warpath asked. 

"Uh, joined them in Boston, got sent to Mojoworld, Ric and I kinda have a similar situation. We're tied up with Star' here, and now we don't have anywhere to go," Boomer said. 

"Like Boomer said, we go where Star goes. In Boston, we kinda did form a club, and part of our, uh, initiation ceremony we promised to stick with each other, through everything. That Mojoworld was a bit much... But like Boomer said, we don't have anywhere else to go," Rictor finished. 

"So, you got the 411, happy now, big guy?" Boomer joked, staring up at him, fists cocked on her hips. 

"I admit it, you've convinced me. For the moment, go with Domino, gets cleaned up, or   
anything else you might need. I'll get back to you with my decision," Cable stated. 

__

Later the entire team, plus the three extra additions assembled in the mansion's living room, he sat them all down, with an announcement 

"I guess introductions are in order, that's Domino" he said, pointing to the woman with a patch. 

"That'sWarpath" he said, pointing to the candidate for a linebacker for the NFL. 

"Hell, Boomer thought "With his build he could probably fill several p0ositions at once." 

"That's Cannonball," Cable said, pointing to a gorgeous blond kid. 

"Shatterrstar is stranded in this dimension. In return for helping him fight his war, he will fight ours,"   
Cable announced. 

"Rictor and Boomer will join as well, they've explained about being in Mojoworld with Shatterstar and how they wound up there. With nowhere else to go, they've agreed to join the team," Cable continued. 

"In addition, I don't feel our method of operation will coincide with those of our 'landlords', the X-MEN." 

"What happens now, Sir?" Cannonball asked, glancing at the blond girl, called Boomer. He found her very attractive. Adding a new member to   
the team wouldn't be all that bad," he thought. 

"You were first brought here by a man who had a dream, Sam. It's time to face reality. You've already how to control your powers, we'll keep working with our new recruits and honing everyone else's. Now it's time to start using them. It's time we became a force for change in this world, legal or not, for what's right," Cable explained. 

"Take Professor Xavier's dream and fight for it?" Warpath asked. 

"An X-Force? A little crude, but it's got some potential." Cannonball said. 

"Welcome to X-Force, kiddies, hope you survive the experience. That's all for tonight. Hit the showers, gang. Cannonball, show our new members the ropes, would you," Cable said as he and Domino left the room. 

* * *

To be contintued in "Enter Freely" featuring Siryn   
Enter Freely 


	3. Enter Freely Siryn

**Disclaimer**: Siryn, Black Tom, Juggernaut, and all related X-Force characters belong to Marvel Comics. I am only using them for entertainment reasons. In Marvel continuity, Siryn's first encounter with X-Force took place in issue #3. I've never actually read that one, so if I diverge from continuity, you know why. Also I am ignoring Siryn's brief tenure at Muir Island.   
Note: indicates thoughts This is part three of the series which began with "You Only Live Twice:: On Shaky Ground You Only Live Twice: On Shaky Ground and Juxtaposition" Juxtaposition 

* * *

EMAIL: karrenia_rune@yahoo.com 

****

"Enter Freely" by Karen 

  
_ Mayo County, Ireland_

Theresa Rourke ran her fingers along the balcony of Cassidy Keep's east wall overlooking the North Sea's pounding surf. No matter how much things changed, the sea appeared deceptively unchanging. She had to admit that the balcony had a magnificent view especially at sunset. The sun dipped below the horizon, sinking down into the ocean waves, painting the sky in streaks of red, gold, and pink, like a giant canvas.   
It was very soothing, but she didn't feel like being soothed. 

She'd spent her springs and summers here, and the balance of the year in the nearby village of Killer nay. No matter how much she loved the atmosphere and energy of life in town, a secret part of her heart always felt like it belonged here. After her mother, Maeve Rourke Cassidy died in an IRA bombing when she was three her father vanished or dead; her uncle, Thomas Cassidy, had raised her as his own. 

Theresa reflected. She threw another empty bottle to the ground, which shattered upon impact. A puddle of the liquid inside seeped into stone cracks in the floor. When she was twelve Tom had sent her away to a boarding school because his criminal deals interfered with his role as her guardian. "Maybe he did because he generally believed it was the best thing for me, or maybe it was because he didnae want me finding out about his arrest for traffickin' in the black market." 

Theresa picked up the crate of gin and uncorked another bottle. She knew she shouldn't be drinking so much, but it did help deaden the pain. 

"Back then it didn't matter what I wanted or thought about it. Having a kid underfoot was simply an 'inconvenience'. Tom wasnae prepared to deal with me and business at the same time, and business came first. He had his priorities. Of course, only when my mutant powers manifested, then he realized how valuable I could be to him." 

Terry shrieked her sonic scream shattered the glass and cracked the stone walls.   
She glanced at the banks of roses and ever blooms, whose petals were turning, brown and crinkled at the edges because she hadn't been there to take care of them. Theresa raised a glass in mock salute to the forlorn looking garden. 

"Tis a fond welcome back I've received," she said, drinking down the contents of a tumbler of gin. 

"At first, I loved the adventure, and the danger and felt closer to Tom than I ever had." Terry sighed, biting back tears. "He didn't know I'd graduated to hard liquor during my time at that Catholic school. Tom always drank after a successful heist, and insisted that I join him. In my heart I had doubts about the criminal life I was leading, and drinking helped silence my conscience. Tom would say that 'this was the life', and I was foolish enough to think that it was...." Terry stared moodily out upon the ocean. 

"Come inside, lass," Tom called. "Ye can stare at the ocean some other time. Donnae scream like that, I cannae afford to have the stone masons come again and I donnae know how to plaster." 

"Aye. I'm coming," Theresa replied, ignoring the slight jibe about the renovations her uncle had been forced to make to the castle because of the structural damage her sonic scream had on buildings and glass. 

****   
Inside, dinner was waiting for her, corn beef and cabbage with fresh baked rolls. He had gone to the trouble to prepare all of her favorites. 

"What's the special occasion?" Theresa asked sitting down in the high backed chair her uncle pulled out for her. Knowing Tom as well as she did, she knew that he only spared no expense, made full course meals when he wanted to impress a client. 

"Cannae a lovin' uncle provide a special dinner for his only niece? Welcome back, Terry," Tom grinned and made an elaborate sweep of his arms across the spread, indicating the meal, and the lit chandeliers. 

"All right, ye've convinced me," Theresa grinned back. It never ceased to amaze her how utterly smooth and charming her uncle could be when he pulled out all the stops.   
"I cannae stay mad at him forever and this meal is very good. she thought, as she rolled the cabbage around and her fork and took her first bite. She savored the flavor and washed it all down with white wine from the bottle sitting in the middle of the table. 

__

Later 

"Did ye enjoy yuir dinner?" Tom asked, signalling the servants to clear away the table. "I'll wager tis a far sight better than boarding school food." 

"Excellent, as always. Aye, there's no comparison. Ye should have yuir own cooking show,"   
Theresa joked. 

"Ah, the problem with that, is I'd have to go on network television, and they're never profitable," Tom said, as he wagged a negating finger at her in mock severity. 

"Aye, profit comes first, so ye've always taught me," Theresa replied. 

"Always. That's why the three of us twill be takin' a trip Stateside tomorrow morning," Tom announced, as he poured himself another goblet of wine. 

"Cain's going?" Theresa asked, referring to Tom's partner and on-again, off-again friend, who went by the name Juggernaut. Theresa just thought of him as 'yuir typical, over-sized, muscle bound, blowhard.' Not that she couldn't get along with him. It wasn't like Cain didn't treat her with a modicum of respect, during the occasional heists she'd accompanied them on. There was just something about Cain Marko that rubbed her the wrong way. 

"Aye, if he can manage to be on nigh on time." Tom got up and strode around the dining room table to her chair. 

"Any place special?" Theresa asked, a spark of interest flaring in her intense green eyes. 

"Aye, how does the World Trade Towers sound?" Tom whispered conspiratorially. 

"Wonderful," Theresa laughed, as Tom ruffled her red hair,   
  


* * *

_ X-Force HQ_ Evening 

Cable deactivated the red light on the monitor that indicated an incoming message. 

"Cable here." 

"Cable," Charles Xavier greeted. 

"What do you want?" Cable responded gruffly. 

"I'm sorry to call so late, but I need your help." 

Charles Xavier was the last person he expected to hear from. Although the majority of X-Force were former students at Xavier's School for   
Gifted Youngsters, both men well aware that each had made their own decision to leave the X-Mansion and join X-Force. 

"Xavier, I know you object to how I operate X-Force, because it's different from the way you would handled things if the kids had taken a different path and chose to stay at the X-Mansion," Cable began. 

"Although, we don't often see eye to eye on many issues, Cable, I trust we both recognize that we're both fighting for the 'Dream' of mutant coexistence, and...."Xavier said. 

"I know that, Xavier, You know that, I don't see why we have to rehash. it. You didn't call to clear the air between us. Mind cutting to the chase?" Cable asked. 

"Impatient as ever. Very well, a band of terrorists have targeted the World Trade Center. Cerbero has pinpointed at least two unidentified mutants whose powers are unknown at the present time. Also, the Juggernaut is also with them. I'd send the X-Men, however they're currently away on another mission," Xavier explained. 

"Why not send X-Factor," Cable said reasonably. After all stopping terrorists would be more in their modus operandi, being 'a government sponsored team. You know as well as I do that Valerie Cooper, and others consider X-Force 'clandestine," Cable finished. 

"I've already contacted Valerie Cooper. X-Factor is unavailable. Forge is in the process of negotiating with the Senate Committee for Mutant Affairs, and it's a tricky situation, which needs to be handled carefully. 

"In other words they can't afford to be connected with in any fashion with 'mutant terrorists because it would jeopardize their status as a 'government sponsored mutant team. I guess I understand where Coopers' coming from, but why send us?" 

"Cable, I wouldn't ask you unless it was important." 

"I understand, Xavier, it's just that it's not like we're the farm league for the X-Men that you can call in to bat cleanup whenever it's convenient. We'll do what you're asking, but you have to understand that it's not exactly our usual style. X-Force isn't the New Mutants, even though you might still think so." 

"Of course, I never meant to imply that you were, to use your baseball metaphor, the 'farm league for the X-Men', I appreciate your willingness to hear me out."  


Xavier was a decent sort, dedicated and sworn to his goal and his X-Men. Cable respected the man, but he had his reasons for the rift in their relationship mostly due to how his modus operandni differed. But that was in the past, and this was now. The man was asking for his help, and he'd give it to him. 

"Okay, okay. We'll go," Cable agreed. 

"Thank you, Nathan. Be careful," Xavier said, before hanging up. 

"Sure, no problem," Cable replied, committed now, then hung up the phone.   


Meanwhile, Domino walked into the conference room, having just come from going over the personnel records. Knowing that Cable would be up late, she wanted to discuss the schedule training sessions for the following morning, but it could it wait. Not wanting to interrupt his phone conversation, she straddled the chair next to him and rested her elbows on the conference table. 

As soon as Cable clicked the phone off, Domino wryly remarked, "One doesn't have to be a telepath to tell that something's wrong." 

"We've got another mission, this time at Xavier's request. It's a terrorist situation at the World Trade Towers in New York." 

"What about X-Factor? They would be the most logical team to send to handle that situation." 

"They're busy," Cable replied. 

"I see." Domino crossed her arms, the slight crease in her forehead that appeared whenever she was worried or angry.   
"So, how do you want to handle this one? I assume we're going." 

"Yeah, we're going," Cable answered "Call the team in for a briefing, Dom." 

"So we're damage control or demolition?" Domino asked she pressed the panel for the public address system, "Briefing in ten minutes, get in here. 

"Wonderful. So half the team runs interference, ensures the safety of any civilian bystanders, while the other half of the team brings down the house?" Domino said.   
  


********** 

"Demolition?" Boomer echoed, having heard the tail end of the conversation. "That's my department, so were are we going?'leading the pack as the members of X-Force arrived for the briefing in various states of dress, having been rousted from their beds when Dom's call came through the public address system. 

"What' up y'all?"" Cannonball asked, as he straddled a chair at the oval conference table. 

"Fekt! I for one would appreciate engaging in live combat as opposed to these mock combat sessions. Even scrimmages against my own troop mates, aren't as satisfying a replacement as the real thing." Shatterstar shrugged, then leaned up against the door frame. 

"Don't sweat it, Star," Warpath said, as he squeezed past Shatterstar to take   
a seat opposite Cannonball. 

"Yeah, amigo," It's almost midnight, and I was having such a pleasant dream, especially after all the drills you ran us through today, Cable," Rictor said, breathing a tad shallowly after trying to keep up with Shatterstar. 

Cable glared at Rictor out of the corner of his eye, but decided to let the comment slide for now. 

"Sorry to wake everyone up, but this is urgent," Domino said. 

"Okay, people, here's the situation, we're headed to the World Trade Towers in New York, where a band of terrorists comprised of at least two unknown mutants and the Juggernaut are staging a bomb threat," Cable explained. 

"Ah, Sir. Isn't that a little outta our field. It ain't exactly our kinda crowd." Cannonball asked, a little puzzled. 

"I understand your concern, Sam. But in this instance, it's us or nothing."   
As I mentioned before, Xavier called and asked that we put out the fires, so to speak. So I agreed to go through with it." Cable finished. 

"How did Xavier know about it?" 

"Through the grapevine, maybe monitoring local police bands, we didn't go into details into how he found out about it. It doesn't really matter at this point. I suspect he didn't want to gush about how uncomfortable the Juggernaut makes him feel. The X-Men don't exactly have a high win/loss record against him." 

"We've gone over this during the Rogue's gallery scenario, you insisted we participate in, Sir. We're familiar with the Juggernaut's specs. 

"If I recall correctly, "Warpath began, isn't he supposed to be invulnerable to anything except telepathic attacks?" 

"Yeah, but we'll cover that enroute to New York," Cable replied. "As for rest of the opposition, they're supposed to be pretty light-weight, but don't think you can let your guard down and get cocky. It's always best to prepare for the worst when facing unknowns," Domino added.   


"And no grand-standing, you got that, Star?" Cable growled, staring at Shatterstar. 

Shatterstar didn't reply, just nodded his head at the reprimand and in acknowledgement of his orders. 

"Okay, folks. Gather up any gear you'll need. We'll move out in 20 minutes," Cable finished, then watched as they left the conference room to suit up. 

"Yeah, yeah, we read ya, big guy, But it woulda have been nice to have gotten cleaned up first, ya know?" Boomer yawned. 

"I'll make it up to when we come back, Boomer, and I promise to save the hot water," Domino laughed, striding along beside her to the weapons locker. 

* * *

  
_New York, Next Morning_

The elevator doors opened with a slight shudder since they hadn't been serviced for several months. A tall man, wearing dark clothing, entered. He wrapped his cloak snugly around his body, then clenched his fist around a narrow cylinder hidden underneath. It was a _shiloh_, an Irish equivalent of a quarter staff. Most quarterstaffs weren't seen much outside of dojos and maybe some university of military training grounds. However, this was no ordinary staff. The man who owned it was a mutant whose ability was to channel bio-energy through it. He pushed the button for the observation deck, then grinned. It would just be nigh on time... Ah, tis harder and harder to find good help these days. Black Tom thought as the elevator doors slid shut, carrying him upwards. 

**** 

Upon reaching the penthouse, the man called Black Tom Cassidy, although not a short man was suddenly dwarfed by a massive shadow as another figure emerged from the shadows of a support pillar. 

"Cain," Tom greeted. 

"You were expecting the Colossus of Rhodes," Cain greeted. 

"You're on time, that makes an eighth wonder of the world," 

'There are so many, not that it makes any difference if you've lost track, Oh, by the way, the explosives are a time delayed mechanism, all we   
have to do is get, grab the loot and get out. Piece of cake." 

"Ah, staging a terrorist attack/bomb-threat, to make off with a fortune in precious stones," Black Tom sighed, already calculating the fortune. He could have sworn he heard an invisible cash register go 'caching!" as the numbers added up. "I love Tiffany Jewelry conventions, especially when they're so obligingly displaying everything in plain sight." 

"Yeah, Just make sure that Red does her part," Juggernaut replied ignoring his partner's rambling monologue about the calculated worth of precious stones. 

"You don't know her as well as I do. Have no fear, Terry'll come through," Tom said, momentarily distractedly Cain's worries, although he couldn't help thinking to himself that Terry had been a little out of sorts after her last visit home from boarding school. 

* * *

Meanwhile 

X-Force arrived at the top floor of the sky reaching ivory tower. of the World Trade Towers. Landing the Pacrat, a modified version of the X-Men's own SR71 ship, the Blackbird, was relatively easy. Rictor brought it down for a smooth landing, and deployed the ramp and everyone disembarked from the transport. 

"All right, kiddies, I want this done by the numbers. Take them down player by player," Domino yelled, jumping down on top of the Plexiglas, skylight roof, as she sprayed it with fire from her double-barreled guns. 

Cable followed; jumping through the hole that Domino had made large enough for everyone to follow her through to observation deck below. 

Cable hefted his own oversized energy rifle over his broad shoulders.   


He landed with a thud on the floor startling the crowd and sending them scattering in different directions, while the rest of the team followed.   
Shatterstar alighted on the floor below with the grace of a cat, pulling his twin bladed swords from their sheath strapped to his back, and gave the area a 360 degree inspection. Rictor hit the ground running, almost stumbling over his own feet, as Warpath reached out a hand to steady him. 

"Watch your step, Ric,' Warpath said." 

"Uh, thanks,' Rictor replied. 

"Do you hear that?" Warpath asked, tilting his head upwards as a high pitched whining sound grew steadily louder. 

"You were saying, Jimmy?" Rictor commented. 

"Star', check it out," Cable ordered, as his words were cut off by an explosion that knocked everybody off their feet, glass and masonry flying around like so much shrapnel. 

Shatterstar pulled his swords out and glided over to where he thought the source of the sound was located. 

Cannonball ignited his blast field, and launched himself into the air. "Ah'm makin' a circuit of the area. So, where are they? Ah thought this was going' to be tough." Cannonball flew towards the Juggernaut, having finished his circuit of the room, and not finding any trace of the opposition. 

"Cannonball, see to the civilians," Cable ordered, taking a few seconds to ascertain   
the positions of the others. Cannonball reversed direction and landed. He frantically tried to stem the flood of people fleeing the observation deck. 

"Don't panic, folks!" He yelled. "Just pretend it's a fire drill! Form a single file line and head for the nearest exit!" Cannonball shouted. 

Thankfully, they listened, responding to a recognizable voice of authority in the midst of panic as the crowd trickle toward the stairs and elevators.   
Cannonball heaved a sigh a relief as he'd been successful in getting the crowd out of harm's way.   


While Shatterstar went to investigate the source of the explosion, Boomer, still recovering from the blast, looked up, and pointed to a seven foot behemoth emerging from the shadows of bank of elevators. "Can of spam, dead ahead," she announced, as she prepared an energy sphere. 

"As corny as it sounds, babe. The name's the Juggernaut, don't wear it out," the Juggernaut replied as he pummeled the floor with a gigantic fist causing the floor to buckle.   


From her position near the jewellery display cases, Boomer kept up a steady stream of time bombs. Boomer brought her hands together, cupping a sphere of plasma energy and pitched them overhand towards the Juggernaut. Her aim was right on track, and each one exploded on impact.   
harmlessly, unfortunately. The Juggernaut simply laughed them off, which made Boomer furious. 

Domino and Cable took pot shots and Rictor brought up the green energy from his hands and poured it in the general direction of the Juggernaut. . 

Shatterstar, responding to instincts learned in the combat arena of Mojoworld, literally threw himself into the fray, leaving the others to set up covering fire in in the vanguard while he took a frontal assault on the armor-plated behemoth. He leapt into the air, swords raised, executing a double flip in mid air, as he easily evaded the Juggernaut's flailing limbs as he tried to latch on to him 

Cable growled, gritting his teeth in frustration, "What the flonq does he think he's doing? I thought I told him there's no room for grandstanding!" 

"Do you want to be the one to tell him he's in the line of fire? Domino shrugged. 

"I don't think that's gonna be necessary, Dom," Rictor said. "I mean, Star's an arena combat warrior, evading fire is like, uh, second nature to him." 

"Maybe so, Rictor, but he's still part of this team, and his actions right now are jeopardizing the team, " Cable replied. 

Warpath followed up Shatterstar's lead as he rushed forward like a linebacker in full blitz and sucker punched the Juggernaut around his middle ribcage. All he got for his efforts was a throbbing fist as the room spun in his vision. Warpath staggered backwards and nearly toppled over. He back-pedaled almost colliding with Domino and throwing her aim off, then blacked out when she absently shoved him behind her, confirming that Warpath was unconscious but otherwise unhurt. Both continued to keep up a steady barrage of fire at the Juggernaut. 

The Juggernaut simply laughed everything they threw at him off, complaining that it tickled. 

Cannonball figured that since his blast field would protect him from getting hurt when they collided, "Ah just hope till be enough to knock him offa his feet. Wonder if ah can get that blasted helmet offa him, too?" 

A level below the observation deck, Theresa used her sonic scream to carry herself up through the air. She emerged through the hole in the room's floor caused by the explosives the Juggernaut had set before meeting Black Tom. 

In the back of her mind, she wondered f her mythological counterparts, the Sirens had ever ambushed Irish sailors in this way. 

Tom's countin' on me 

She noted several costumed folks tackling the Juggernaut. Bracing herself on the edge of the gaping hole in the floor, Theresa let out a deafening sonic scream. She noted a man with hair almost as red as her own, worn in a ponytail. He didn't acknowledge her presence, his entire concentration given over to his fight with the Juggernaut.   
SWORDS?" Theresa griped to herself. She let out a high-pitched scream. 

The scream caught everyone off guard, forcing them to cover their ears to prevent from going deaf. Shatterstar, caught in mid leap, felt a convulsive shudder pass through his entire body like an epileptic spasm and his instincts took over, as he quite literally rolled with the punches, and collided with Cannonball. Caught off balance, he slammed into the windows. 

"Sam!" Boomer gasped. At the start of the fight she'd been standing on top the jewelry displays, pitching plasma energy spheres overhead, growing increasingly frustrated as the Juggernaut just shrugged off the energy explosions like they were soap bubbles. 

The piercing wailing echoed over and over again like they were trapped inside a deep canyon, 

Boomer jumped down from the tables and ran over to him. "You okay?" Boomer asked, bending over him, and shaking him, totally zoning   
out the fight. 

"Hiya, Boomer, Ah guess we've pegged our mutant, huh?" Cannonball gasped. 

"Sounds that way, don't it?" Boomer replied. 

Rictor, who'd been standing next to her, shook his head in fond irritation, seeing Tabitha rush to Sam's aid. He then focused his concentration on   
adjusting the frequency his vibratory waves just like Cable'd drilled into him during the team's last training session figuring that maybe it'd trigger a hairline crack in the Juggernaut's armor. "Like this will work," Rictor thought, shaking his head in disgust 

"This wasn't supposed to be like this," Cable muttered over his shoulder to Domino. "What the flonq do we do now?" 

`"Huh? What did you say?" Domino replied, tapping her ears, her hearing not fully   
back to normal. 

*****   
Black Tom, sulking around in the shadows throughout the fight, using it as cover he steadily worked his way toward the display cases holding the jewelry. 

"Ach, where did these bonnie lads and lasses come from? They'll ruin everything. Still,... Perhaps it's best that I cut my losses, ulp..." he trailed off, when he felt a sharp blade at his throat. "What say we cut a deal?" Tom offered. 

"Coward! Any warrior worth his mettle would not stand back in the shadows. He would face me in honorable combat!' Shatterstar growled, having recovered quickly from the sonic decibel levels. 

"Too bad, I'm not a 'honorable warrior." Black Tom used his quarterstaff to strike a blow at Shatterstar's middle ribcage, and moved on, knocking the wind out of him. 

Quickly recovering Shatterstar decided to ignore Black Tom, despite the idignity of having a job half done, Shatterstar didn't consider it worth pursuing a foe that would sink to such dishonorable tactics. He'd concentrate on the more immediate threat, the Juggernaut. He executed a double flip easily crossing the room in matter of seconds. 

Shatterstar evaded the Juggernaut's flailing limbs as he tried to latch onto him. 

"You were lucky, ya pretty-boy, ponytail! I don't know who you are, and I don't care. But you were unlucky enough to really tick me off, so now I'm gonna splatter ya like the bug yaare!" the Juggernaut shouted. 

"No doubt, you wil try this bug like crushing, but as your last bolt rusts, the name you will remember as synomous with your termination is Shatterstar!" 

"You can say that again, Star!" Rictor yelled enthusiastically as his vibratory waves flowed from his hands, which caused the floor beneath the gigantic man to crack wide open. The law of averages being what they were, something had to give. Under the Juggernaut's weight and being hit a force akin to a wrecking ball and the floor gave way. 

Theresa saw Cain go down through the floor and become partially lodged mid floor as his bulk wedged him in place, then sent him plunging downwards. 

"We keep this up and the place will look moon craters." She turned around just in time to see Black Tom hunched over trying to sneak around the edges of the fight, to make it to the elevators without being spotted. His excited leer reminded her suddenly of pictures of wizened gnomes she'd seen in her storybooks as a child, a greedy, excited gnome. 

Up until now she'd excused his criminal side, she'd gone along with it, thinking that it was just and adventure, that if they just stole things no one got hurt. But seeing that expression on her uncle's face, glancing around the wreckage on the observation deck, in a matter of seconds, something inside her snapped, that if no one else could put a stupid this chaos...   


"Then, bloody hell, I'll do it! Sometimes blood isn't thicker than water. I love him, but I haveta put a stop to this madness.". 

Theresa stopped hovering in mid-air, landing on the floor. She then let out a deafening scream in Black Tom's direction, ignoring the unsettling feeling his wounded look caused her as he keeled over unconscious. The decibel levels causing temporary damage to his eardrums, but hopefully not permanent deafness.   


"Does he think I betrayed him?" she wondered silently. She smiled bitterly, "As for Cain, well, either he'll lurch his way out, or the authorities will have to get a crane to haul him out," she thought absurdly. 

"It's over!" Theresa then yelled at the top of her lungs, addressing the room in general. 

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Domino said. 

Just then, police sirens wailing loudly from outside, signaled the official end of the fight, which meant New York City's finest had arrived on the scene. The authorities ran up the steps, flashing badges and waving flashlights around. "A what the hell happened here, hung in the air like a storm cloud about to unleash a downpour upon their unprotected heads.   


"That's our cue, people! We're outta here, NOW!" Cable shouted, as X-Force filed out. Theresa again used her sonic powers to float her way up through the hole in the roof.   


* * *

X-Force regrouped inside the PACRAT, leaving Cable and the Irish mutant in the forward section of the cockpit, where they'd have some privacy to talk. 

Theresa glanced as they kids went about getting the Pacrat ready for takeoff. She'd them in action, and having more than a little previous experience under her belt she knew that they were mutants like her. Eventually, she might even find a place to belong. 

"The name's Cable, that's X-Force," Cable began, as he nodded his head towards those she'd seen in action and now prepping the aircraft. 

"Theresa Rourke. So what happens now?" she asked. 

"The fact is, that when push came to shove, you choose the better part of valor. That will weigh heavily in your favor, Cable said. 

"I donnae pretend I like the stunt my uncle, Black Tom, tried to pull off here," Theresa choked, biting back tears of frustration. "Ah want to see him pay for his crimes," Theresa said, standing rigid in front of the big man who glared icy daggers down at her. She hoped her voice didn't shake and that she sounded more determined and persuasive than she felt. Trust was going to be a tricky business, the man emitted suspicion like a fluoresenct lamp shed light. Trust was a two-edge sword, and she wanted to prove to this Cable-fellow that she had what it took. 

"Do ye have any openings on yuir team? Without Tom I'm on my own," Theresa remarked. 

"I'll give it some consideration enroute back to our base. Just so you know up front, joining up will mean living a bunker in the Arizona desert." 

"Ye're not serious, Sir?" Theresa asked, taken slightly off guard. 

"I am. Are you still certain you want to go through with this? I'm not trying to force you into making a hasty decision that you'll regret later.   
Of course, it doesn't take in consideration the legal repercussions of what happened here," Cable gruffly said. 

Domino returned at that instant from below. "The local authorities are mopping up things below. We're done here," she added, nodding encouragingly at Theresa. "They have also put out APB for the Juggernaut's and his partner. What happens to Red here, that's an unknown at this time."   


"Good going down there," she added, taking the pilot's seat, and bringing the engines into full gear. "Get us outta here, Dom," Cable ordered. 

With that, Cable turned back to Theresa and began again,   


"The decision to join is entirely up to you. Don't feel that it's your only option now that that Black Tom is out the picture. Bear in mind, there are always other alternatives and X-Force may not be the best place for you," Cable said. 

"I am," I can make me own decisions. And I know what I'm doing when it comes to usin' me powers," Theresa replied. She crossed her arms as if daring him to dispute her claim. 

"I can attest that, my ears are still ringing. Be that as it may, I wouldn't want you to feel pressured into making a hasty decision.   
You'll have time to think about your decision enroute," Cable finished. 

"I've made my decision, I can live with it. If ye've got a problem with dat, ye deal   
with it, Cable.' Theresa responded. 

"You have yourself a deal. Miss Rourke." Cable extended his head, which she clasped shook firmly.   
  
Theresa sat down in passenger's seat directly behind the pilot's and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly she'd gotten herself into. 

"Cable, Jimmy's coming around, medscans onboard list his condition as stable. No permanent damage to his hearing, or any of the others for that matter," Domino offered as she gently brought the Pacrat airborne and turned its nose back towards X-force's base. 

"Hmmf," was all Cable made in acknowledgement of her report. 

**** 

XFORCE HQ Aftermath 

Upon their return to their headquarters Cable sent everyone to shower and get cleaned up, he'd also run a more complete medical scans, which turned up negative for any permanent damage to their hearing. Except, Shatterstar's ribs were bruised, and he had a dislocated shoulder. However, as usual, he had preferred to suffer in silence. 

An hour later, he gathered everyone in the conference room. 

"Team, I'd like you to meet Theresa Rourke. I've given her request to join serious consideration, and I've decided to grant it. As you're already aware, I'm always up for new recruits," Cable announced. 

"Whoopee," Boomer yawned. "So, what's she going by?" 

"I've decided on Siryn," Theresa replied, folding her arms, the blond girl's casual attitude was grating on her last nerve. 

"A little more enthusiasm wouldn't kill you, Boomer,' Domino remarked. 

"We'll start with introductions: That's Domino, She's the team's second-in command."   
Cable gestured towards an albino woman with a tattooed patch over one eye. 

"Nice to meet ye," Theresa said, shaking her hand. 

"Likewise," Domino replied, returning the gesture. 

"That's Boomer," as you may have picked up already," Cable indicated the blond girl who wore a pair of green sunglasses. She'd lent her one of her shirts when they arrived. 

"Yeah, Red," Rictor added. "Boomer here could use the balance, not to mention having a roommate." Rictor grinned, then winced as Boomer elbowed him in the ribs. 

"That's Cannonball," Cable said, ignoring the banter. pointing towards a tall blond kid. 

The aviator style goggles, he wore, had been pushed far up on his head because they had become entangled in his hair. 

"The more the merrier, ah always say," Cannonball added, "After all, we accepted those two, as he pointed towards Rictor and Boomer. "So y'all can't be all bad." 

"Aye, I can see that," Siryn replied laughing at the good-natured joke made at Rictor's and Boomer's expense. 

"That's Rictor," Cable continued, gesturing towards a brown haired kid. 

"And this is Shatterstar," Cable continued, indicating a tall kid with hair almost as red as her own, he wore in a long ponytail. He didn't acknowledge her 'hello' apparently completely absorbed in critically examining the light reflecting off his swords. She'd only seen him in action once, but he rather withdrawn and lonely even among his teammates. Theresa wondered what his back-story might be. 

"And last but not least, that's Warpath," Cable concluded the introductions leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

"Welcome aboard, "Warpath said, pumping her hand up and down. 

"Uh, thanks," Theresa replied unsure of what to make of the muscle bound hunk she'd pegged for a bad attitude much like Cain's when she'd first met Black Tom's partner-in-crime. Theresa found herself making the assumption that he was just another blowhard. 

"Welcome to X-Force, Siryn. Hope you survive the experience," Boomer commented, echoing the same phrase that she'd been handed when she, Rictor, and Shatterstar had when they joined the team. 

"Meeting adjourned, Welcome aboard, 'Siryn," Cable echoed as he and Domino left the room. 


End file.
